Cold Noon
by Victoria Draken
Summary: Elizabeth Brimbank doesn't seem to quite fit in at Deep Space Nine. Garak is her only friend and "friend" is stretching it.
1. Chapter 1

She looked dolefully, drunkenly, at the knife in his hands, waiting for him to press it against her throat again. He was brandishing it in his own drunken frustration and she was a little too tired to be afraid of him right now. Of course, he did now have her paranoid enough that she wondered if her drowsiness would result in her death tonight, but that was exactly what he wanted.

"Are you even listening?" he demanded, compelling her to look up into his face rather than the blade of the knife.

"Yes, I'm listening," she replied wearily.

"You let yourself be vulnerable! You know what I am and yet you still get drunk in my presence and then push your foolishness further by closing your eyes and exposing your throat to me. I could kill you in an instant."

"Fine. What do you want me to say? That I'll never get drunk with you again?"

She was getting awfully sick of his games. This was true even when they were both sober, but now the alcohol in her system was giving her an added irritation. His eyes darkened and he became unnervingly calm.

"If you lean your head back and close your eyes, I will kill you."

A moment passed where she stared back at him just as calmly, then said, "I don't believe you. If you want to know why I'd do something as stupid and close my eyes in your presence, then it is because I don't think that you will kill me."

His frustration peaked again and he pushed the shape blade against her neck, still remarkably in control of the weapon despite his inebriated state.

"I will kill you," he repeated.

She glared at him for a fraction then, with a little flutter of fear in her stomach, she repeated the action which started this whole discussion and closed her eyes, leaning her head back on the sofa. Part of her felt a victory in this action, but it was a very small part. Even though she had defied him, she knew he could tell she was scared. If she didn't know any better, she would bet that he could smell her fear.

To her relief, he seemed to decide not to push his point any further and the blade left her neck. She felt him settle himself on the other end of the couch once more and pick up his drink instead.

"So what are you?"

"What?"

She kept her eyes closed as she asked her question, determined not to look at his face, although she could almost sense his expressions by the movements he made.

"You said that I know what you are, but I'm not sure that I do. What are you?"

There was no doubt now that his breathing was a little heavier. That actually worried her even more than the knife had. If any facts were to be gleamed from all that everyone on the station had suspected about him then her drinking companion was something of a master spy. It seemed just a little too easy to be getting that kind of a reaction from such a loaded question. Even she felt she knew him well enough to know that he was more than adept at dodging her questions without any outward sign that he may not have liked what she was asking.

After several seconds more of silence, she once again lifted her head and opened her eyes, turning to look at him. His own eyes were fixated on his right knee, a drink sitting dangerously loosely in his hand.

"Garak?"

Usually she didn't call him by his surname. A very short time after arriving on this station she had learned his first name from the head of security and insisted on calling him by it, simply because it got a response from him much more often. Right now though, she was completely out of sorts and didn't think she could take whatever reaction his first name might get.

"Garak?"

She placed her own drink on the table and sat closer to the edge of the couch, looking intently upon his face. Instead of saying his name a third time, she reached out and touched his shoulder. He still didn't move.

The very interesting idea that he might actually have fallen asleep with his eyes open stole across her mind and with a tiny snort of suppressed laughter she shook the shoulder she was still touching. He jumped and grabbed her arm so suddenly that she gave a shriek of terror before leaping off the couch and away from the drink he had spilled all over the seat in his movement.

Instantly he was on his feet and fetching cleaning materials while she simply hunched over on the spot laughing. Some of the hysterics took away her earlier tension and doubts that getting drunk with Garak was a bad idea. The tentative friendship she had struck up with the Cardassian could be nerve-racking at times, and she wasn't exactly stable to begin with. Sometimes she felt she had pushed too far, tried too hard, and was going to be very sorry that she had attempted to associate herself with him, but usually in those times he surprised her.

Tonight had been one of those times. Recklessly, she had shown up at his shop with a bottle of wine that she was quite sure she had paid Quark entirely too much for and asked him to join her for a drink. There had been a long moment where she felt she had crossed the line, that she had assumed too much from their association, then he gave her that charming smile of his and asked that she wait while he closed up.

Since then the night had progressed nicely, although she was still on edge for most of it. She knew he could tell and it embarrassed her to no end, but the terribly sad thing was that Garak was the closest thing she had to a real friend here. She couldn't quite tell whether or not he was aware of that, but she would be entirely unsurprised if he was.

He was done cleaning his mess and her laughter had subsided a great deal. The beginnings of embarrassment were setting in again. He was too sombre now (possibly a result of the tiny sleep he'd just had) and she was once again wondering if she was starting to overstep her boundaries by staying this long. Perhaps she should be leaving now?

She tried to ascertain the correct next move from watching his face, but as always there were no clues there. His silence would be her only reaction until she produced a new action. A quick glance at the bottle showed her that there was barely enough wine left for one glass. Yes, it was probably time for her to leave.

"I should probably get going," she said softly. He was still looking sombre and had been about to sit back down when she spoke. Realising that she had been staring at him as he started to look at her, she quickly looked away and back at the table, gesturing towards the litter of glasses, bottle and food. "Would you like me to help clean up before I depart?"

He glanced blearily down at the table as well and shook his head. "I'll do it in the morning."

She walked impressively steadily towards the door with Garak dragging his feet along in her wake. He really did seem to be quite affected by the handful of seconds he had dropped off to sleep, she observed. Smiling and raising her hand in a small farewell, she stepped through the automatic doors and out into the hallway that seemed a great deal more chilly and bright after the warm, dark interior of Garak's quarters.

As she headed towards her own quarters, she mused again at how the unconsciousness had affected his behaviour. She knew many people who had their lives run by sleep – people who seemed completely unable to function without it and would give up a lot to indulge in it. It surprised her that Garak was one of them.

Of course, Elizabeth Brimbank would never have suspected that he had been faking, and when her sobriety returned she would also never remember the question that he had so expertly avoided.

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**A/N: I debated waiting until I had finished the next chapter to publish this, but I don't always know what speed my stories will move at, so that might be a while off. I see this story as more of a long-term project to develop an original character in a non-original fandom. If any of you guys would like to leave feedback/constructive criticism/suggestions and so on, that would be awesome. I'd also like you know if you just like the story.**


	2. Chapter 2

That Thursday was the two year anniversary of Elizabeth having begun her store, Miscellaneous. She smiled fondly around at the shelves and displays that, two years ago, had either been empty or had not yet been replicated. Those days had terrified her. The entire store had begun with a half-formed thought and when it had begun to look like it might actually happen she had succumbed to a panic born of her own stupid thought that she could do any of it.

It was when she was sampling her way through some of Quark's less expensive liquors that she met Garak. In later weeks she had found herself nearly obsessing about his appearance in the bar, but that night all she could do was stare at him as he took the seat next to her. He ignored her until he managed to procure his own drink from Quark's brother, Rom.

"Why are you staring at me?" he muttered without even looking at her.

She kept looking at him but her eyes widened slightly. He had taken several drinks from his glass before finally looking at her and she was still staring.

"Well?" he snapped.

"Sorry," she replied in the closest she had ever come to a breathy voice. "I don't know why I'm staring, but I can't seem to stop."

Silence (which was not actually silent, but just an isolated stillness surrounded by the noisy patrons of Quark's) stretched between them until Garak pulled his gaze away to continue drinking. It was hard, but Elizabeth finally managed to tear her eyes away from him and stare at her hands before her. Now that she was looking away it was a lot easier not to look at him. But that was probably the power of alcohol.

Even as she had that thought she suddenly became a lot more uncomfortable with only being able to see him out of the corner of her eye. She was fairly certain that he was not looking at her, but she couldn't help feeling that his attention was still somehow focused on her. Before she could stop herself she blurted out, "I'm opening a store and I don't think I can handle it."

If she had been looking at him she thought she might have caught him laughing at her, but when he replied his voice held only a very vague amusement.

"Mmmm... I heard there was a new store opening on the promenade. Something rather unremarkable, wasn't it? Selling random trinkets?"

Elizabeth's spirits sank. "That would be it."

"What in the Universe made you think that was a good idea?" The amusement in his voice was more pronounced now. "Who would buy junk on a space station?"

"Tourists. People that travel like to bring stuff home to show the culture of where they visited."

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Garak shaking his head. "You're thinking of humans. Only humans are that sentimental."

Now that she was getting annoyed she found it easier to look at him and not stare. Of course, glaring probably wasn't much of an improvement.

"I've seen aliens from all over the Quadrant buying cheap crap from Quark all the time, and they paid a _lot_ for it!"

A sly smile spread over Garak's face as he turned towards her. "Quark is a Ferengi. He would be an embarrassment to his species if he couldn't sell cheap trinkets to people for three times their worth." He gave a snort. "Most of the time he _is_ an embarrassment, you must have been catching him on his good days."

Rom was serving someone two stools down from them and out of the corner of her eye Elizabeth could see him glance quickly at him and look away again. She felt her anger crumple away as quickly as it had come and looked away again, this time picking up her own drink and downing the rest. There was another pseudo-silence as Garak turned away from her.

"You can't handle running a store if you give up on the first person to criticise it."

She frowned at her empty glass as if Garak's voice had come from it instead of beside her. "I'm drunk and I don't need to explain anything to you," she replied tightly, addressing the glass.

"But I am a potential customer. How can you sell things to me if you don't convince me that your store is the one thing I must visit on my trip through the Alpha Quadrant?" His amusement was back.

"I'm not a sales person. I'm a customer service person. I don't want to force things on people if they don't want it."

Elizabeth's recollections following that weren't very clear, but she knew he must have offered to look over her store because they ended up there at some point and the next morning most of her sales items had been moved around. There was also a very hazy memory of him yelling at one of her shelves, but she always assumed it was a dream or something along those lines; every time she had seen him afterwards he had always been far too composed for that memory to make any sense. Not that yelling at a shelf made sense in anyone anyway.

It wasn't until three weeks later that she'd learnt his name when visiting Odo and it was another five weeks following that that they saw each other again. The somewhat friendship that had grown between them was entirely accidental through random encounters and would probably never have started if she hadn't been drunk that night in Quark's bar. In fact, she was willing to bet that he had become inebriated as well and their association probably wouldn't have begun if it wasn't for that either. It was all a big coincidence that had landed her the only acquaintance she had.

Elizabeth frowned at the shelves in front of her. Part of her frown was from the fact that thoughts of her business had now turned into thoughts about Garak. The rest of her frown was aimed at the shelf itself now that she realised she was looking at the one in her memory. Despite the fact that she had been drunk at the time, despite the fact that it was hazy and unreal enough to be a dream, some part of her always felt that the memory had been real and he had been yelling at this shelf.

The real problem was that she could never remember what had been on it at the time.

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**A/N: Published under threat of Tribbles. ;-)**


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